"J" is for Jetsetter

In T-Minus 11 hours I will be on a plane to London and then off to see the greater Western European region for the next 18 days. I've packed 20 pairs of underwear and feel nervous, yet prepared. I'm taking it old school and writing in a paper journal while on my trip but I promise I'll save the good stories and life epiphanies for you! Cross your fingers I don't get robbed or sold into the sex trade....send a search party if you don't hear from me in awhile!

Bon Voyage!

Playing the Bitch Card

Today is one of those rare days where I'm sick enough (and drugged up enough) to honestly not give a shit about telling people off. I'd say its been a successful day though I don't feel very good about myself for doing it. But you know what? Someone's got to play The Bitch Card and I guess today is my day.

Move 1: One of our office interns made a mistake over the weekend and instead of my usual mothering-touch to the matter I was very frank in an email sent to multiple people (including my intern victim) saying it was a mistake and it was NOT ok. I got a bit reprimanded for it from a superior (the one who loves putting me down anyway...) but I got defensive and stuck to my guns. Everyone in my office is a pushover. Someone has to crack the whip and if no one else will do it then I gladly will. I did apologize for sending the tasteless notice in a group email (which included info for others...it wasn't just a piece of hate email) but at the same time I was honest in the fact that when something does not get done, I am firm about it. It's an industry lesson she had to learn. And though she thinks I hate her (A. SOOOO childish B. I do not hate her) this lesson will hopefully put her in her place and help her see this is not a beach club, it's work--so get it done!

Move 2: Boyfriend works for the airlines and as such, gets a few* (A FEW!!!) discounted airline passes each year to disperse as he likes. I am baffled and appalled at how many of our distant friends have come out of the woodwork for one of these handouts. Honestly 95% of the people who have asked boyfriend for a pass aren't even considered "friends". They don't put any work into the friendship, they blow us off constantly or just don't hang with us period YET they still have the gumption to ask for a freebie. Finally fed up with these users I posted a status on Facebook that hopefully most of our mutual friends will see and comprehend. Yes, it was super bitchy but boyfriend doesn't have the heart to say "No" to these people so I did it for him. (Score!)

Move 3: Speaking of Boyfriend...we've developed the routine (for which he claims he likes) of him driving me to work at 8 a.m. Monday through Friday. Today I was especially counting on the ride as I am on day three of feeling like crap as well as having a 30-lb camera to lug into work. Of course today was the day he chose to be lazy and reject my request for a ride. That being said, I was lucky to find a parking spot near campus but was still pissed I had to drag an awkward camera case up to work. I sent him a nasty text about it and am pretty sure he ignored it. Awesome.

Who knows what other moves I'll make today but I suggest you stay out of my way. My Bitch Card is played fast and furious.

The Manners Movement

Its become quite clear that my generation (filled with 20-something's at various stages of life) missed the manners memo. Perhaps their mothers (and fathers!) were too busy watching Jerry Springer re-runs or working overtime to be concerned with the fact they were raising bad-mannered offspring. No matter who gets the blame or who takes the blame, I'll be the first to admit my generation is RUDE.

I have yet to see a "Thank You" card when I go out of my way to ensure their 2-year-old brats got a Christmas or Birthday gift. Even sending them personalized gifts I find myself having to send a text message weeks later to make sure they recieved my package. My text reply is often something to the tune of, "Yep!"...still not even a text message thank you?? Come on people.

I don't know where or when people decided that other people aren't worth their time but it makes me feel a bit superior (if I can use that word) knowing that I have some class. Part of my Christmas afternoon tradition is to sit down and write Thank You cards to anyone who sent me a gift. It's been that way since I can remember and I'm very thankful my parents instilled that trait. To this day its part of my routine. If I receive something, I say thank you for it whether it be a snail-mail card, a text, sometimes even a Facebook message or wall-post will do.

Perhaps you're thinking, "Yes that's nice to send thank you cards but I'm just so busy it's hard to find the time.". News Flash: OTHER PEOPLE ARE BUSY TOO!! Think of what a hassle it is to go to the store, find something for someone else and then package it, mail it, and spend the money for all of the above. Though it is a hassle, someone thought so much of you that they went out of their way to do something for you...and if that's not a worth a thank you then might I frankly suggest: You weren't worth their time.

What makes my generation (probably multiple generations) think they are so above a simple Thank You? Are they that busy? Do they simply not comprehend that a Thank You is appropriate when receiving gifts?

I titled this The Manners Movement for several reasons. A.) To start a Manners Revolution in hopes of bringing Please and Thank You back into our vocabulary. B.) To address the fact that there's been a Manners Movement...but actually meaning the manners moved away. Far, Far Away.

P.S. Thank You for reading this.

Dorothy Dare and the Curse Of The Blah Blah's

“If A equals success, then the formula is A equals X plus Y and Z, with X being work, Y play, and Z keeping your mouth shut.” -Albert Einstein

We've all seen them. We've all experienced them. Truthfully, some of you might be some of them. They walk around as normal looking, normal functioning people but in truth they are not. In my world they are referred to lovingly as: The Blah Blah's...but I seem to be uncomfortably surrounded by them! (HELP!)

A Blah Blah is a person who talks A LOT. They have no real point to the stories they tell...details they add (such as names, time of day, what someone was wearing, etc.) are often irrelevant and I've had enough Blah Blah's in my life to draw the conclusion that they just like to hear themselves talk.

Why all the talking? 

Do they hate silence? Do they hate when I talk? Are they really that self-indulgent to think that I give two hoots about their mundane story? (Does that make me improperly self-indulgent because I don't give two hoots about their mundane story?)

Part of the problem is I've brought the world of Blah's Blah's onto myself. I'm a journalist and a natural listener. I like to listen to people tell stories and I am generally interested in people's stories BUT (and I say BUT all caps because I do have a limit to my listening) sometimes I like to talk too and it's frustrating when I literally can't get a word in during a conversation.

Another element of the problem is I, like any other normal human being, have a listening span of about five minutes (and that's on a good day). It's frustrating when A. The Blah Blah's continue rambling on even though it's clear I am disinterested or have checked-out of the conversation completely and B. When they get mad that I've checked out because they expect me to listen to their rant.

I'll admit I am quieter than most so perhaps the constant talking bothers me faster than others but for the sake of peace and quite I wish the Blah Blah's would shut-up and enjoy the silence from time to time. And in hopes of not turning into a Blah Blah myself, I'm stopping this rant, right now.  

Brain Warp

This evening I concluded my 15-week history course and I'm already bored. Yes, part of the reason for taking the course was an effort to curb my non-hobbyness (see The List) and refrain from boredom. Also part if it was because I'm oh-so-close to having a collegiate minor in history. Yes, I'm an American History Nerd with an unusual fetish for the private lives of Presidents!! Aside from that painfully honest moment I never really meant to share with the Internet universe, my goals were attained. I was never bored, always eager to complete my assignments and strive for top grades, and I'm pretty sure I'm getting an "A" in this one. (So this is what it feels like to be an "A" student...not bad!)

You know, there's something to be said about taking life one day at a time and I now firmly believe our education should be taken one course at a time! It was so delightful to have just one course zipping throughout my brain and to not have the final exam fear of history class somehow getting mixed in with some mathematical formula other academic area I was attempting to collectively master. Example: If A equals X and X equals C when divided by A, then C must be the year Branch Rickey signed Jackie Robinson to the Dodgers...huh?

I know at this age our brains are young and can quite literally hold a mountain-top of information but keep in mind, we are holding a mountain top of information in our brains!! Life is a bit more complicated these days with pop culture trivia (celebrity arrests, celebrity affairs, celebrity rehab visits), hit TV series' and Facebook updates to keep track of. Oh and lets not forget our ever growing shopping debt (It's not just me, right?), student loan payments, relationship dramas and endless job applications we have on our mind. Sometimes avalanches happen up there and information gets jumbled together. So why the rush to master it all, right this very minute?

Sometimes we get so much information we don't even know what to do with the information once we have it. Example: I have no idea how I got on this tangent, how to get out of it and what I was trying to make a point of.  I've just opened a flood gate of information in my brain and now I'm not sure how to process it...I suppose I'll be the first to follow my own new-found advice and take this revelation one thought at a time. 

The Cheat Code

A long drive with my former roomie and current bestie brings on a lot of typical "girl talk" conversations, one of which included cheating. We're both guilty of the crime and I was stunned by her matter-of-fact honesty when she said she'd cheat again if she were to get back together with her college sweetheart. (Of whom we were zooming east to see.) Stunned isn't quite the right word, nor is pleasantly surprised, I guess in a way I was jealous (thought that's not the right word either) about how perfectly honest she could be not only about the matter of cheating, but about herself.  I suppose the right word is: intimidated. To know that much truth about yourself is one thing, but to be able to share it with others is an admirable quality, and I wish I had that.

Admirations aside the concept of cheating struck a new chord in my brain. We cheat on diets. We cheat on our looks (thank you make-up and spanx!). We buy cheat codes to get levels ahead in video game play.

With all the easily accessible cheat codes whirling around us, how do we keep relationships sacred from the cheat code?